


reconnecting

by nessismore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Past Relationship(s), Reunions, Tumblr Prompt, seriously i still don't know how to tag stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:43:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessismore/pseuds/nessismore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Agent Carter’s birthday is in a week. She’s turning 94. You should go see her.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	reconnecting

**Author's Note:**

> For the tumblr prompt: Steve/Darcy Steve goes to visit Peggy in England before it's too late, but he's hesitant. supportiveDarcy nervousSteve. bonus for Peggy making an embarrassing comment about babies
> 
> As per usual, this was supposed to be a ficlet but got a little out of hand...
> 
> Thanks to the awesome anon for prompting, and to blackglass for beta'ing, and blackglass, katertots, and merideath for cheerleading and handholding and bouncing ideas off of.

The thing about Darcy, Steve thinks as she sits down across from him, is that she exists outside of any hierarchy, SHIELD or Avengers. Temporarily, she’s “finding herself” and staying on as Dr. Foster’s assistant while she does this. She’s never really far from Dr. Foster’s side, and Dr. Foster is often found in close proximity with Thor or Bruce or Tony, which means Darcy is practically a fixture in their lives—one that most of them don’t mind. She can be loud and obnoxious, but she’s also wonderfully _normal_. That, Tony says, is why he lets Dr. Foster keep her.

Technically, since Dr. Foster works for Tony, it might be said that Darcy does, too,  but Steve thinks that if Tony ever actually tried to give her orders, she wouldn’t have any problems whatsoever just moving on to the next thing. She gives a great impression of that rolling stone gathering no moss, but Steve knows she’s searching for somewhere to belong. He knows. He’s been there. He’s got a soft spot in his heart for her because of it.

Darcy also feels no compunction whatsoever about butting into everybody else’s business. From the look in her eyes today, she’s about to meddle in his.

“Are you going to be an asshole forever?” Darcy demands. He tries to wrack his brain, figure out if he’s done anything that women would deem stupid in the last few days. He’s still thinking when she lets out an exasperated huff and pushes a brown folder across to him. He recognizes it as a SHIELD personnel file. Somehow, he knows exactly whose file it is.

“How did you get that?” he asks tightly.

She waves a hand dismissively, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’ve been awake for over a year and you haven’t gone to see her. She knows you’re alive. She knows you know she’s alive. And she deserves at least something from you.”

“This isn’t your concern.” His voice is clipped. In the past year, he’s done his mourning, for the life he had, the life he might have lived, the world that was his. He can think of her now without feeling like someone has stabbed their hand into his chest to twist his heart around. He can look at her picture with a smile, and the regret only fills him to half capacity instead of brimming over. But he’s not ready to see her. He might never be ready to see her.

Darcy presses on, unaware of the thoughts whirling through Steve’s mind. “Agent Carter’s birthday is in a week. She’s turning 94. You should go see her.”

“No.” His tone is firm, unyielding, and he knows his expression is equally so. A frown mars Darcy’s brow, but there’s determination in her eyes, even as there’s pain in his heart.

“Why not? After all the time she spent looking for you, mourning you, don’t you think it’s the least she deserves? The average life expectancy in the U.K. is like, 82. Do you know how awesome it is that she’s pushing 94? You can’t expect her to live forever.”

That thought is jarring. His mind rejects it, pushing it away, and he pushes his chair back. “Stop it.”

“I can’t. I know she’s got a hold on your heart. How can you expect to move on if you won’t even see her?”

“Who says I want to move on?” Even though he does. He does desperately. Just not this way. He leans over the table, sliding the file back towards her.

“It’s not healthy—“

“Look, I know you think you know what’s best for everybody else, but why don’t you figure out your life before you try to butt into mine.” It’s cruel, and he knows that even while he’s saying it. She looks at him, stricken, but all he can do is shake his head and hurry out of the Stark Tower cafeteria.

—

Steve is pummeling another punching bag. There’s already a graveyard of punching bags across the gym. They’ve been there for the last three days, and he’s told the cleaning staff not to bother—it’s his bad mood, he’ll clean up after it himself. 

There’s a lot of things he feels guilty about—not finding Peggy sooner, not contacting her at all, letting himself get so caught up in his grief that he forgot that there were other people he might be hurting. He feels guilty about Darcy, too. That look on her face has stayed with him for the last few days. It’s there in her eyes every time he sees her, even though she tries to pretend that it’s not. She doesn’t talk to him, never smiles at him, and he knows he’s hurt her feelings. He hates that. She was just trying to help. And the hell of it was, she was right. He comes to a decision, and it makes his stomach roil and his heart clench, but he’s not changing his mind. He can’t.

The punching bag goes flying across the room.

“Wow.” He turns at the quiet exhalation and sees Darcy, wringing her hands in the hem of her sweater. She looks uncertain, and that makes him feel even guiltier. Because when was the last time he saw Darcy look uncertain about anything? They stare at each other for a long moment.

“I’m sorry—“ they both start to say at the same time. They share a nervous laugh. Steve runs his fingers through his hair. Clumps stand up in spikes. Darcy twirls a lock of hair around her fingers.

“Can I go first?” she asks hesitantly. Steve nods. “I just wanted to apologize for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. I thought—no, never mind what I thought. I shouldn’t have said anything and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You were right about this. I should see her.”

Her eyes light up with delight, but then she dims once again. “I still shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

“Yeah, you should have.” She sighs so mournfully that he has to laugh. There’s a question on her tongue, dying to be asked, but she holds back.

“I’m gonna see her. In England,” he says, offering the answer she’s looking for. Once again, she looks delighted.

“I’m glad,” she says, walking forward to give him a hug. This is something that she does with the Avengers, like she needs touch to anchor her, and he feels oddly centered, as well.

Impulsively, he finds himself saying, “I want you to come with me.”

—

It takes some convincing to reassure her that he means it. It takes some thinking to realize that he really does. When he thinks of coming face-to-face with Peggy, his heart races and he gets a sick, nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. If someone doesn’t come with him, he might just do the cowardly thing and turn tail and run straight back to New York City.

There’s plenty of room on Stark’s private jet, but Darcy sits beside him, holding his hand like she knows he needs touch to anchor him now. He worries about a lot of things. What if she doesn’t remember him? What if she’s angry with him? What if she didn’t want to see him at all? Maybe he should have called first. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

They stay overnight in London, sharing a penthouse suite with two large bedrooms that Darcy oohs and aahs over. She doesn’t ask him any questions about Peggy and Steve is grateful for that.

The next day, Peggy’s birthday, Darcy drives them to Winchester. It’d be faster, they were told, to take the train, but Steve doesn’t need to be around other people right now, and Darcy has been unstintingly understanding about the whole thing. They pull up to the small house that’s listed as Peggy’s address in her SHIELD file. 

“Let’s go,” Darcy says, picking up a package and getting out of the car. He follows numbly, nerves jangling, palms sweating. Darcy doesn’t mention anything about that part as she takes his hand, squeezes. “You’ll be okay. But if you don’t want to do this, we can go home.”

“No. I want to.” They walk up the steps of the house. Steve knocks. A nurse opens the door. Her jaw drops when he explains who he is, and she moves aside to let him in. Steve tugs Darcy’s hand for her to follow, but she shakes her head.

“I’ll be right here if you need me. Try not to say anything dumb.” That makes him smile. She presses the package into his hands and nods firmly. “You can do this.”

He takes a deep breath and crosses the threshold without her.

The nurse gestures to the front room. An elderly woman, stooped with age, is sitting on a settee at one of the windows. She turns, and even at 94, she’s still sharp, her mind, still whirring. He’d know those eyes anywhere. Time may have aged her body, but those eyes—they take him back seventy years. He holds his breath, wondering who would speak first.

Then a beatific smile crosses her face, making her look decades younger. “You’re late,” she says, her voice thinner, but still Peggy.

He sucks in a breath. “I got cold feet.” She laughs, and he’s startled to realize he doesn’t have that memory, a memory of her laugh. There are smiles, and smirks, and glares, and determined looks, but he can’t remember laughter. There was never much to laugh about in those days. He lets the sound wash over him now, tucking it away someplace safe, adding it to the list of all the things that make Peggy, Peggy.

Just like that, the nerves creating a vise around his heart loosen and he walks over to her. 

“Happy birthday,” he says quietly, handing her the package in his hands. He tried to wrap it himself last night, but his hands shook and his mind kept turning over and over, wondering if maybe this wasn’t the right gift after all. After a half hour, Darcy had gently nudged him aside and wrapped the gift herself. _It’s perfect_ , she’d assured him, but he couldn’t sleep last night for staring at it.

She opens it carefully. She smiles at the music box, winding it up and opening it. A pair of figurines, hands locked together, spin as the strains of “They Can’t Take That Away from Me” fill the room. 

“It’s lovely. It’s perfect. Thank you,” she says, and there are tears in her eyes. Her hands shake, and he takes the box from her, setting it on the end table next to the settee. She pats the cushion beside her, and Steve sits, conscious of his own size and strength next to her frailty. It’s so odd to think of Peggy as frail, but he knows that’s only her body. Her mind, her wit—those are still strong. The conversation is awkward at first, because Steve isn’t quite certain what to say.

He asks stiltedly about the rest of the Commandoes, whether they kept in touch, whether they were happy. Mainly, Peggy tells Steve stories about those they knew in the past. She talks about Jim and Gabe and Dum Dum and the others, about Stark. He tells her that he’s met his son. Peggy laughs and says she has, too, once when he was two years old and wont to pee on everything. He tells her haltingly of the battle in New York, of the Chitauri, of his new apartment in a high rise and how he’s not quite sure how he feels about the modern world, even a year later.

He finishes telling her about the trip he took around the States when she smiles softly at him and says, “I could have loved you, you know. All those years ago. I was already halfway there.”

They’d both been avoiding this topic, but now here it is, in the open. He swallows hard, and finds that the lump in his throat isn’t so pronounced as it was even a week ago. “I was, too. I’m sorry.”

Her smile now is soft but practical and completely, one hundred percent happy. Not just content. Actually happy. “Don’t be. Things have a way of working out, in the end.”

“But…but you never married.”

“And?” she says with a smirk. “I’ve lived a very happy, very full life.”

“It never bothered you?”

They hear a snort through the open window, and Peggy smiles. “And who’s that? I know without a doubt that that is not Millicent.”

Steve grins affectionately. “That’s Darcy. She’s my…” He searches for the right word to use. His rock? His motivator? Friend seems paltry when compared to the strength she’s helped give him to do this. “She’s my Darcy,” he ends up saying stupidly, and a knowing smile plays around Peggy’s lips.

“Well? Aren’t you going to invite her inside?”

She appears in the doorway a few minutes later, a book in her hand. “I’m sorry, Agent Carter, I couldn’t help overhearing. Steve, a woman doesn’t have to get married to have a good life. Honestly.”

“I know that—“

“I’m Darcy Lewis,” she says, cutting him off and turning to Peggy. The two women shake hands firmly. “It’s an honor to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Don’t believe anything you read in my file,” Peggy says, mischief dancing in her eyes.

“Your file?” Darcy asks slyly. “I’m talking about the stories I’ve heard from some of the retired SHIELD agents. I think I’d like to be you when I grow up. How did you get out of that prison in Barcelona?”

Peggy and Darcy get along like a house on fire, which does and doesn’t surprise Steve. In many ways, they’re so different. Peggy’s known what she’s wanted from the jump, aggressively pursuing it and busting down barriers to achieve her goals. Not that Darcy couldn’t—it’s just she seems mostly content to meander a bit while she figures out what to do. While Peggy always wears her confidence around her like a shield, Darcy hides behind baggy sweaters and a blasé attitude. Then there’s the generational gap…

But both of them are quick-witted, mischief in their eyes, and that seems to go a long way in bridging any gap.

Darcy, it seems, has an uncanny ability to make people talk—not with Peggy, but as she peppers Peggy with questions,  it’s clear she’s been talking to _someone._ A lot of the things she’s asking about are definitely not in her file. 

“How did you hear about that?” Peggy asks with a laughing smile when Darcy asks about “the Incident in Buenos Aires.”

Darcy grins. “There are a few retired SHIELD agents living in the city. Some of them are older and I met them at this benefit thing that the director made the Avengers go to and Thor took Jane and Jane took me and…anyway. We started a book club.”

“You did?” Steve asks in surprise.

“Yes. Anyway, before every meeting, they like to talk about some of their previous missions and colleagues. They never said your name, but you figured pretty heavily in some of their stories. At least, it wasn’t too hard to figure out it was you if you had access to the right files.”

“And how do you have access to those files?”

“Now that,” Darcy says with a sly smile, “would be telling.”

Peggy laughs and pats Darcy on the hand. “Oh, I do hope SHIELD keeps you.”

“I don’t know about all of that. I saw Director Fury come into the labs one day. His eyepatch almost made me cry.”

“I’m being quite serious, young lady. You don’t get to my age without knowing a potential agent when you see one.”

“Trust me, I know enough retired agents to know that maybe I’m not cut out for this line of work.”

“What made you think of starting a book club for retired SHIELD agents?”

“A lot of these agents…they gave up families or the idea of a family when they took on this job. SHIELD was their support network, and when they left…” Darcy pauses, like she’s trying to find exactly the right words. She shakes her head and tries again. “When you get…disconnected, it’s easy to get lonely.” She looks at Steve when she says this last part, and he feels his heart leap into his throat.  Then she looks back at Peggy. The moment should be broken, but he can’t quite look away. As she asks more questions, Steve listens quietly and considers Darcy in a new light. He’s always thought that she was nosy and noncommittal, but right here, right now, he understands that all she’s wanted to do was _help_. 

He excuses himself for a moment to get a breath of air, and both women wave him away as they continue their conversation. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his swirling thoughts and emotions. The house isn’t big, but he finds himself in a second living area, with a big fireplace and overstuffed, comfy looking chairs. He looks around the room, seeing the things Peggy hasn’t told him. There are photographs all around—he sees one of Peggy and the Commandoes, obviously taken after Steve went into the ice. Peggy and Howard, a photo of Steve before the serum, frames of people wearing the SHIELD insignia, and there, in the center, a large framed picture of Peggy and a man. They’re looking happy, in love, and Steve feels a pang of loss and regret. But that’s all it is—a pang. Not the overwhelming grief he’d been expecting. All around him is evidence that she _lived,_ that she was happy, and that fills Steve with a quiet joy.

He’s glad that she was happy, and he’s glad that he got to see evidence of that for himself.

He’s walking back to the room where Darcy and Peggy are still talking quietly. He pauses when he hears Peggy say, “I’m not sure how long he’ll be out of the room, but I must ask you—and forgive me if this is too forward, but age, you see, gives me certain rights to ask uncomfortable questions.”

He can hear the smile in Darcy’s voice when she says, “I kind of want to hide, but I’ve asked you enough questions that I think I can answer one of yours.”

“You’re the one who made him come to me, weren’t you?” Peggy asks. “Why?”

“I wanted him to have some kind of closure. With you. Not because I’m in love with him and wanted to clear the way or anything.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Steve is the best man I’ve ever met. He deserves to be happy.”

“Do you love him then?”

“How did I not see that one coming?” she mutters, and he freezes, waiting for her answer. He wants to hear it. He doesn’t want to hear it. “But I don’t know. Some days I really think I could.” There’s a pause. “Please don’t tell him that. I don’t want it to be weird between us.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you.” There’s the gentle rustling of movement, and then— “I should leave you and Steve to your reunion. It was such a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, as well, my dear. Thank you for bringing him to me.”

“He would have come on his own eventually. I just sped up the process a little, is all.”

“I would encourage you to rethink about SHIELD. They could use more of a heart like yours.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

“You won’t, will you?” he hears Peggy ask.

“Probably not.” Darcy is still laughing when she bumps into Steve where he hovers in the doorway. Pink infuses her cheeks, and she smiles slightly before she pats him on the shoulder. “Hey, I’ll wait for you outside.” Before he can say anything—not that he knows what he would say—she flits back outside. He stands there, frozen for a moment before he moves back into the room. He sees Peggy closing the window, looking at him very seriously. 

“I was wondering how long it would take you to move,” she says with a smirk. “Come, sit down, we should talk.” Steve sits, and Peggy makes her way slowly to his side. “Your Darcy,” she says with a smile, “she worries about you. She worries that you’re too disengaged from life. I hope that doesn’t continue to be the case. She’s afraid you’re too alone.”

“It’s—it’s difficult. The world—it’s different.” She’s had the chance to navigate this world as it’s shifted, and she’s done it gracefully. Steve, in many ways, is still floundering. Maybe Darcy’s right. Actually, Darcy probably is right. “I don’t know how to belong here.”

“Yes. It is. But people are important. Caring about people is important.” There’s a tense pause as they both sink deep into their own thoughts. Then Peggy speaks again. “After you disappeared, when we couldn’t find you, I was angry for a long time. I grieved. I soldiered on because that was what we had to do, but I didn’t think I would ever feel about anyone the way I felt about you. The war, too, made my heart fragile. And then I met Henry and I fell in love. He brought me back. I hadn’t disengaged from life, not completely, but I’d kept the heart of me locked in a safe place, away from anything that might damage it. Henry helped me to live fully. We never married—he couldn’t have children and he wanted to give me “a way out” if I ever wanted it. I never did. I’ll leave this world knowing that I loved—that someone loved me in return so much we both ached with it. One day I hope you’ll be able to say the same.”

“I hope so, too,” he says, and he finds that he really does mean it. 

“I think you might be closer than you think.” They talk for a little while longer, then Peggy invites them to stay for dinner. They do, and Darcy and Peggy share stories about Steve that make him blush. His eyes keep darting to Darcy’s smiling face. His mind opens up to possibility. At the end of the evening, Peggy starts to tire. “Thank you very much for coming to see me,” she says wearily. She looks every bit of her age now, and Steve’s heart breaks just a little at the thought that she might not be there much longer. She looks at Darcy. “You’ll take care of him, won’t you.”

It’s not a question, but Darcy nods. “Thank you for having us. Happy birthday,” Darcy says, squeezing Peggy’s hand. She turns to Steve. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

Peggy struggles to her feet despite Steve’s assurances that she doesn’t need to. “Thank you,” she says softly. “Next time, we’ll dance.” He takes her into his arms, and she feels so frail, he’s afraid he might break her. Now, more than ever, he feels the weight of the years gone by that he missed. 

“No, thank you. We’ll come see you again,” he says, and drops a kiss to the top of her head. 

“You’ll think about what I said, won’t you?” she asks, and he nods. There’s a look in her eyes that says, _if you’re going to take a chance, take a chance with her_ , and he nods again. He holds her for a long moment, and then he helps her back to her chair. Millicent, the nurse, shows him out. As he walks towards the car, towards Darcy, he tries to envision the future. This time, it’s not quite so weighed down by the past.


End file.
